Just Like the Chemical
by Red-Wing-Angel
Summary: It is the same as all the other nights. The same worker would lock those glass doors and go home for a night of relaxation. But today’s routine with be different then all the others. KakaIruk later in the story


**Red is back, and with a new story! -go me- But yeah... here is the prologue For my latest story.**

**Warnings for this Chapter: Violence and Language**

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Darkness inched closer in the east, as the sun subsided behind far off hills in the west. The number of people in the crowded streets began to lessen and lessen as a cool breeze over came the atmosphere in soft waves. Laughter echoed brightly as children left the old town park and ran happily to their warm, welcoming homes. Lights of shops and restaurants began to light up as night finally eclipsed the wide sky.

It was Seven forty-four, right on the dot, on a Tuesday. In one minute, the local library would be closing, like all the other days in the week. The same routine was followed every day, every week, every month for the past two years.

Like every night, the same worker would wait until the clock read seven forty-five to lock those glass doors. To keep the books that where housed in the great brick building safe in their protective haven. Every night, the same worker would take his long, soft brown hair out of the short ponytail it was normally warn in, as the silver key slid into the lock and was turned slowly to the right. Those same, gentle eyes would close and a sigh of relief would pass through his lips as the click of the lock signaled that he could go home and relax, like he always did. The same left hand would reach up to the collar of his navy button up shirt as he took of the nametag that read, 'Iruka Umino' in neat, bold letters.

Iruka was the twenty-five-year-old man who made sure this routine was followed. He never strayed from the same spot he stood in to lock the doors, and he always made sure the lock up was successful by pulling on the door handle four time, no more and no less. Iruka was just an average man who had a semi decent job at the local library. Sure, he was the only man who worked there, not to mention the youngest since most of the women there ranged around their thirties and forties, but that did not mean he was out of the ordinary. He was a quite man, and had his occasional, spontaneous moments here and there. He truly loved his lifestyle. The only downer he had was the fact he had no one to share it with.

Iruka was always too shy to stay with anyone he could find, women and men. He was always the one who apparently doesn't "pay attention" to his partner. And maybe he didn't pay attention to them, but that was mostly the reason his relationships would fly out the window. Even most of his friendships were ruined because he never hung out or did all that stuff friends do. The only person, who he considered, that was his friend for a long time, three years, had moved some place far away for a job opportunity. But Iruka could not remember him. He wished that he could with all his heart, but the memories could never find him.

Iruka mentally slapped himself. He had been standing in the same spot, not moving, for the pass minute. He had been lost in thought and he was now one minute behind his routine. Sure, one minute, no big deal right? Wrong. To Iruka, that meant he only had fourteen minutes to reach his house before his "nightly shows" came one, Iruka had always been a sucker for crime, murder shows.

He quickly placed both his tag and the keys into his pocket as he walked to his metallic, silver car. Once he arrived at the vehicle, he pulled a smaller set of keys out. He had to be quick about his actions so he could make up those precious seconds he had lost already. He had the door open and was about to step in right when a group of men were strolling by. He had seen them out of the corner of his eyes as he was unlocking the car, so he tried to ignore the rather tough looking thugs. Unfortunately for him, they chose not to ignore him.

"Hey!" He heard a harsh voice call out to him like he was a dog. He only let his head turn as his eyes widened in fear as the four men approached him. He repeated words of reassurance in his head as his heart pounded wildly. He swallowed hard as he cursed his heart to calm, that things would be all right. This hope was soon dropped as the men encircled him, his back to his own car.

"May I help you?" Iruka stammered out as he eyed the man who had called to him; for it seemed he was the leader and was the most threatening. He froze in place as the center man pulled out a sharp looking switchblade and raised it up some.

"I can say you can help me," the man spat as he narrowed his venom like eyes at Iruka, the victim. "I need a bit of cash, so you mind if I barrow yours?" Iruka could not believe his ears. Was he getting mugged? He didn't answer the question right away; he was too busy studying the man. After all, if the man didn't kill him, he would report him to the cops ASAP!

"He lady!" the man insulted Iruka. "I asked you a fucking question!" Before Iruka could talk back, the switchblade was raked across his tanned face; the cut started from one cheek then ran across the bridge of his nose to the next one in a perfect line. Iruka howled in pain as his hands flew to his face mindlessly. Then to make matters worse, the "ring-leader" grabbed Iruka by the shirt and violently tossed him to the ground, his nice shirt ripping between himself and the pavement.

"Stop!" Iruka cried as he felt a foot kick him sharply in the ribs. Iruka was lost in a blurry sea. Could this honestly be happening? Would these people actually kill him? He seemed dazed…frightened. His head seemed to be sinking in a lost ocean of confusion.

"Now," the leader started as him and his crew had finished pounding on Iruka for the past four minutes. "All I need is some money. What do ya' say?" Iruka coughed a bit as his lungs filled with air. He groaned some when he heard a few laughs and he wished they would just go, for the truth was always cold…

"I- I have no money with me…" he stated honestly. Iruka let out a hiss as a boot came in contact with his face. Next thing he knew, there were many pairs of boots kicking him senselessly. He could feel some ribs snap like twigs. But all at once, the kick stopped. Iruka thanked the heavens as he could feel some relief on his body, but as soon as that came, he was rolled onto his back and the leader, switchblade in hand, kneeled down next to him.

"So, ya' saying you have no money?" he questioned in a wicked tone. He brought his blade to Iruka's shoulder, and slashed through both his skin and shirt. All Iruka could do was let out unheard screams as the same treatment was applied to other parts of his body. After ten minutes, once they were done and had left, Iruka was leaking blood from his shoulders, an arm, a leg, and his torso. He let coughs slip through his lips along with crimson blood as he lied there, untouched by time. He could feel his body turn cold and feelings began to lower as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

Iruka could hear sirens ring not too far away, like they were coming in his direction, but still far off. He let a soft smile display on his lips and he let his eyes closed a bit. 'Since the ambulance is coming…' he thought in an almost emotionless tone, 'maybe I could rest my eyes for a while.

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**Ok, end of this Chapter. Please tell me what you think!**

**_-Red (Lots of writing love)_**


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